


Wild Under My Skin

by Akaiba



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Because of course he does, Bickering, Biting, Casual Sex, Except Anders Has Feelings, M/M, Marking, Power Dynamics, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex Toys, Spanking, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 20:39:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8462173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akaiba/pseuds/Akaiba
Summary: “This is not what I expected,” Anders admitted.Fenris turned to raise an eyebrow over his shoulder, and somehow he managed an exasperated look despite his position. Anders envied that composure. “I made this very clear, how can you not have expected this?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't proof read this because it ate way more into my working day than I intended, so in the interest of still managing to get my other stuff done please forgive me any mistakes. I will hopefully be able to come pick through this again soon!

 

“This is not what I expected,” Anders admitted.

 

Fenris turned to raise an eyebrow over his shoulder, and somehow he managed an exasperated look despite his position. Anders envied that composure. “I made this very clear, how can you not have expected this?”

 

With a slow, disbelieving blink, Anders glared back. “Forgive me for never truly thinking you’d ever let someone like _me_ do something like this.”

 

“Currently, no one is doing anything aside from having this pointless conversation,” Fenris sighed and made to get up, “This was a mistake-”

 

Before Fenris could raise himself fully, Anders rested his palm flat on the back of Fenris’ back. It would have done nothing in the way of holding the elf down if Fenris hadn’t wanted to be kept there, but fortunately for him Fenris stilled and settled back down across Anders’ thighs. “It’s not a mistake, I just-...” Talking to Fenris sometimes felt like trying to talk to a particularly prickly cat and while Anders could admit that perhaps he wasn’t easy for Fenris to talk to either, it wasn’t as though he would stop trying. Something about Fenris got under his skin and Anders hadn’t yet found a limit to how far he would go to engage the elf in some fashion. Conversation was definitely the one most fraught with the potential to go wrong but when they were alone together they found more reasons not to talk. There were, however, certain things that they had to talk about. “You’re sure about this?” At Fenris’ irritated inhale, Anders added, “I know you’ve said it already, I just want to hear it one more time.”

 

“I believe this is what the watchword is for; if I am not sure, I will let you know promptly,” Fenris rested his chin on his folded hands, seemingly at ease with how he was naked and splayed out over Anders’ lap with his arse raised. Anders couldn’t tell if the ease was an act or not, but then Fenris tended not to bother hiding when he was made to feel uncomfortable and certainly not with Anders. “This act does not mean that I am not the one in control, mage.”

 

Anders rolled his eyes, “Of course not, Fenris, Maker forbid such a thing.” There was a time, some months ago, beyond the fractured civility they’d negotiated for the sake of their mutual benefits where that comment might have carried more sneering heat than it did then. It almost sounded affectionate. Fenris didn’t seem to notice and Anders was grateful for that.

 

“Whenever you are ready, mage,” Fenris drawled, as if bored. Anders might have believed that if not for the sudden tensing in Fenris’ thighs.

 

The conversation was apparently over, though Anders supposed he had gotten his answer. Fenris was not only sure but actually eager, if hiding that fact. The palm he had rested on Fenris’ back stayed where it was and Anders’ free hand moved to the elf’s raised rear, touching gently over the very firm muscle of the arse presented before him. If someone had told him during the very argumentative first year of knowing the prickly elf that very much hated him that he would not only be occasionally fucking said prickly elf, but also trading sexual requests, he’d have laughed himself stupid and then checked them for a concussion. But, here Anders was, and most of the earlier dalliances had been entirely his own fault so it wasn’t as though he could claim ignorance of how he got there.

 

His fingers dipped down the cleft of Fenris’ cheeks and found the base of the plug he’d watched Fenris put in himself. It’s presence would become apparent later, was all Fenris had said. It wasn’t been a small plug and Anders could still see the way Fenris had bit his lip as it slid into him, Anders had been painfully hard before Fenris even caught his breath and that wasn’t even supposed to be part of the show. How Fenris thought Anders could remain unaffected by it was strange, considering how Fenris enjoyed simply watching Anders some nights.

 

The flared base of the plug was warm against Anders’ fingers as they gripped it carefully, not wanting to dislodge it as he tugged and let it shift barely an increment from the grip of Fenris’ body. Then Anders tugged again. Fenris inhaled sharply, his head snapping to the side to glare at the mage. “Cease your teasing, mage, I told you to-”

 

Sharply, Anders hand was drawn up and without pause cracked down on Fenris’ left cheek. The suddenness startled Fenris out of his biting comment, rewarding Anders with both silence and the pleasing sight of Fenris’ skin now sporting a pink tinged imprint of his fingers. He grinned, “What was that about being in control? This position certainly gives me a measure of control.”

 

“That I permit, mage, now please tell me you can do harder than that.” The same bored drawl was back and it dropped Anders grin from his face. A determined frown took it’s place that, while he couldn’t see it, Fenris felt in the sudden strike to his right cheek. It was harder than the first and Fenris had to bite his lip at the surprised grunt that wanted to escape. He wouldn’t give the mage the satisfaction, at least not until he had his own.

 

“More to your liking, ser?”

 

Fenris sighed, “I suppose I will have to make do…”

 

“You little- right!” Anders’ hand on his lower back pushed down more firmly. It still would do nothing to keep Fenris in place if he didn’t want to remain there but the illusion of control was the entire point of this. He knew he could pin Anders to the bed in a breath if he wanted to, but he wasn’t doing that because that wasn’t what he wanted- and what he wanted was important. Also, goading Anders into what Fenris wanted without having to ask for it was both useful and too easy.

 

The strikes came heavy and fast after that. Alternating between left and right, drifting down his thighs and then back up, but it was the one full swing that landed, palm spread wide, across the whole of Fenris’ rear that had him finally making a sound beyond a heavier breath. The mage was no weakling, weaker than a warrior certainly but he hadn’t been idle in his time away from the Circle and it was something Fenris appreciated in the stinging of his arse, but the full handed strike jostled the plug. The shifting rubbed deliciously and made Fenris clench down, accompanied by the bite of pain to unseat his composure with a bitten off, strangled noise that had Anders pausing. For a moment, Fenris dared to hope it had gone unnoticed but of course it hadn’t.

 

“Got you,” Anders purred. Fenris tried to think of a response but Anders didn’t give him any more time before slapping his hand down again. The sounds of striking flesh felt so much sharper as Fenris grunted and shuddered, the same clenching and sting making him want to sag with a cry of ‘yes’. He’d been braced and taking it with ease, the sting simple enough to disregard, but that bounce of pleasure with each hit was impossible to ignore. Anders was like a mabari with a bone, relentlessly fixated now that he had found an angle to work with, so Fenris resigned himself to making the breathless, choked noises much as he tried to swallow them down. His cock had been stirring with interest since he stretched himself for the plug but now it hung heavy and insistent between his legs, rubbing against the roughspun cloth of Anders’ trousers with each jerk his hips gave from each strike. It was a delicate balance between reeling from the blow and then gathering himself but Fenris thought he could maintain this for a while yet.

  
And then Anders cheated.

 

His hand fell again but this time it struck Fenris’ inner thigh and much as it stung in a pleasing way, it wasn’t the same satisfying, dizzy ring of pleasure and pain that Fenris had been enjoying. It still pulled a noise from him, however, but it was one of wrecked protest that had Anders chuckling as Fenris realised the sour disappointment he had felt had actually been voiced.

 

“Having fun, Fenris?”

 

Fenris snarled, “Mage, if you do not-”

 

Anders struck him silent, in every sense, as his hand fell again. And again. Without pause the mage’s hand struck and pulled back to land again. The room filled with the crack sound of Anders’ hand against Fenris’ rear, each one punctuated with a guttural noise that grew more lost, more vocal. The sting was constant now, a low burn of pain shot up to sharp with each blow and then banking low for a moment. Fenris was finding it hard to breathe.

 

Fortunately, Anders lacked the stamina to maintain that pace for very long. Anders was breathing hard as he stopped, hand tapping Fenris’ arse fondly as he chuckled. “This was a fantastic idea, Fenris,” he praised. Fenris shuddered at the hand against his burning, prickling skin, and hung his head as though he had lost the will to hold himself up. “Fenris? You still okay?”

 

Okay? Fenris felt shaken. The composure he’d been certain he’d be able to maintain in spite of his curiosity at this act he’d taken a shine to was well and truly gone, Anders having stripped it from him by Fenris’ oversight at using the plug. He felt… wild.

 

Fenris rose from Anders’ lap, staggering upright and fighting each tremor to stand over Anders still sitting on the bed. The look he pinned Anders with was vicious in its hunger and the mage remained still, uncertain as to how to take it, as Fenris reached behind himself to remove the plug with a growl. He flung it aside with little care, shoving his way back onto Anders’ lap and tearing at the trousers Anders still wore. He’d lost everything else, why did those remain? Anders’ breath hitched in the kiss Fenris snared him with, but he didn’t push back or interfere in how Fenris tore his pants open.

 

A warm, calloused hand wrapped around Anders’ cock and with a dry slide of skin Anders pulled back from the messy kiss to grit his teeth. It wasn’t too rough, but it was close. Good, Fenris thought. His mouth found Anders’ neck and his teeth bit into the mage’s skin, relishing the way Anders squirmed and whined. It felt good to drag Anders into this with him, letting that wild edge push them both further without thought. He shoved Anders by his shoulders to fall back onto the bed, loose hair wreathing his face as he stared up at Fenris. The bravado Anders had briefly seized was gone now, his hands resting on Fenris’ thighs as the elf steadied Anders’ cock under him and sank down. Even with the oil and the stretch of the plug it was rough and Fenris’ legs trembled with the extra sting of being filled. Then, his arse settled on Anders’ thighs and the burn of his abused skin made him choke on a breath.

 

As retribution Fenris bent over and dragged his teeth over the centre of Anders’ chest, letting the hitch of Anders’ breath register before he bit down. Enough to hurt, enough to have Anders’ hands dig into his thighs and hold fast. Slowly, Fenris began to move. Careful little circles of his hips where his arse didn’t touch Anders again. His mouth moved, a parting swipe of his tongue to the red mark he’d left, but Fenris wasn’t content with the two he’d left so far. His lips found Anders’ nipple, teeth tugging hard as he slowed to catch his breath. Anders arched with a groan, taut like a bowstring that petered out as Fenris let go, but when he met Fenris’ gaze again there was a note of defiance.

 

The grip on Fenris’ thighs released as Anders moved his hands to find new purchase on gripping Fenris arse. An ample handful squeezed in each palm, Fenris slumped over and keened. That _hurt_. Anders was smirking when Fenris looked up again, eyes rolling up as Anders rocked his hips up and the mage eyed him with growing satisfaction. It hurt but Fenris didn’t want it to stop, not with the long, slow thrusts Anders was giving in counterpoint. It was making him shudder and gasp, dragging his short nails hard down Anders’ chest for some sort of payback.

 

Anders’ grip was allowed to stay but the pace Fenris set himself, resistant to any urging from Anders to go faster or slower as he pushed down on Anders’ waist with his hands. Anders would not be moving as long as Fenris held him there but he didn’t seem overly concerned with that fact as Fenris began riding him hard. Hard enough to rattle the bed against the wall, rickety as it was to creak with every movement, the peeling plaster of the hightown wall flaking down to the floor with each crunch of the headboard.

 

“Fenris…” Anders choked out, a gasp and a warning all the same.

 

Fenris didn’t heed it, he’d almost finished when Anders squeezed his tender rear and the assurance that Anders wouldn’t last much longer was a relief. He didn’t think he could keep staving off his own release for much longer.

 

Anders’ eyes screwed tight as his mouth fell open and stayed that way, heaving in breath as he arched up. A fervent hand moved from Anders’ waist to Fenris’ cock, the elf touching himself roughly as he chased his pleasure. The loosened hold let Anders move. His feet planted firmly on the floor where they hung over the end of the bed and he rocked up hard, rolling his hips again to take advantage of the new leverage.

 

It also slammed his hips against Fenris arse already gripped tight in Anders’ hands. Fenris cried out, voice low and building in fervour as he came. His back bowed forwards, hand catching himself on the bed as he spilled over Anders’ stomach and clenched hard around Anders’ cock.

 

“Shit, shit, fuck!” Anders babbled, hips jerking. Fenris keened as Anders’ pace didn’t slow, the mage chasing his own end and fucking Fenris through his orgasm and edging into far too much when Anders came with a stuttered, desperate sob.

 

They lay there, Fenris boneless and shaking above Anders, both of them gasping, until the greedy breathing had subsided to quiet, contented murmurs. It was almost domestic, Anders thought. Perhaps not the sex, that wasn’t exactly typically domestic, but the almost-cuddling after as they held onto each other? That… that felt familiar in its intimacy. There was a thought that would only complicate something that Anders knew was supposed to be simple, so he shoved it down and ignored it.

 

“Your arse is going to hurt tomorrow,” Anders blurted out. Better to talk than be stuck in whatever thought trail that was.

 

Fenris sighed. Maybe he’d been enjoying the quiet, but he still answered so Anders supposed that was something. “Then I suppose it is fortunate that the mage I take to bed is a healer.”

 

Anders chuckled, “I’m not healing that.”

 

Green eyes narrowed at him as Fenris raised his head, “What?”

 

“It rather defeats the whole point of doing it. I’ve not made it impossible for you to move, but swinging that sword of yours is going to be a little more difficult for a few days.”

 

“Why would you not heal it?” Fenris demanded.

 

A lazy smirk tugged at Anders’ mouth at the elf’s indignation. It helped him ignore that his cock was still inside Fenris, that his own grip on Fenris had turned gentle and more of an embrace. “Because every time it stings you’re going to remember this and I’m going to know every time you blush about it.”

 

“I do not blush, mage,” The elf snapped.

 

“You’re blushing right now!”

 

Fenris lapsed into an unhappy silence but he didn’t push it like Anders expected. As much as he had insisted, he’d not really thought Fenris would leave the matter alone until he’d gotten what he wanted. What they did on the occasional evening never went beyond that, and it certainly hadn’t lessened the arguments they had in daylight. Them both sharing looks when Fenris’ sore rear twinged would be as close to acknowledging that these nights even happened when they were out helping Hawke. It felt like… something, but that was Anders’ foolish mind again. Of course it wasn’t. He should simply count it as a miracle that Fenris had even been considering magical healing as part of his plan without a comment about evil mages.

 

“If Isabela guesses why I am in discomfort, you will answer to me, mage,” Fenris murmured softly. His voice was gravelly with sleep and Anders got the distinct impression that Fenris was prepared to sleep on top of him.

 

Anders grinned, not ready to tip the elf off his chest yet. “I’ll take that chance.”

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr: akaiba.tumblr.com


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